The World According to Bertie

“Oh,” said Matthew. “Look what I’ve done. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

He bent down to start picking up the pieces, and held two together, as if working out whether the vase could be put together again somehow. But it was far beyond repair; some of the pieces were tiny, little more than fragments.

“It’s all right,” she said. “These things happen. Please don’t worry.”

“But it’s broken,” said Matthew. “I don’t know what to say. I feel so stupid. It somehow . . . well, it seemed to jump out of my hands. I . . .”

A Replacement – and an Extra Little Present 231

“Please don’t worry,” she said. “I’m always breaking things.

Everybody does.”

Matthew stood up, looking at his hands, to which a few tiny fragments of glass had stuck.

“You must be careful,” she said. “You must get those off without cutting yourself.”

She reached out for Matthew’s right hand and carefully brushed at it with a handkerchief. Her touch was very light, very gentle.

69. A Replacement – and an Extra Little Present She tried to stop him, but he would have none of her objections. “I insist,” Matthew said. “I broke it, and I’m going to replace it.”

“It was an accident,” the woman said. “Anybody can drop things. You mustn’t think twice about it. It’s not the end of the world.”

Matthew shook his head. “Of course it’s not the end of the world,” he said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I stupidly dropped your beautiful slag-ware vase. That was my fault and my fault alone. Fortunately, you happened to mention that Peter has others, and so I’m going to go down the road and get you one to replace the one I broke. And that’s that.”

He moved towards the door. “You stay and look after the gallery for five, ten minutes at the most. Just stay. I’ll be back with the replacement.”

She sighed. “You’re very insistent,” she said.

“Yes,” said Matthew, although he thought: nobody’s ever called me insistent before. Nor decisive. But that is what I’m going to be. He looked at her. I’ve decided, he thought. I’ve decided.

He turned and walked out onto the street, looking back briefly to see the woman standing in the gallery, watching him. He 232 A Replacement – and an Extra Little Present waved to her cheerfully, and she smiled at him. It was, he thought, a smile of concession.

Down the road, at The Thrie Estaits, Peter Powell welcomed him from behind his desk. In front of him, half on the desk and half resting on an upturned leather suitcase, was a Benin bronze of a leopard, teeth bared in a smile. A stuffed spaniel in a case stood on guard beside the desk, while on the wall behind Peter’s head, a large gilded sconce hung at a slightly drunken angle.

“Slag-ware, Peter,” said Matthew. “A slag-ware vase, to be precise.”

Peter smiled. “As it happens, I have three,” he said. “And I’ve just sold another. What is it about slag-ware that makes it suddenly so popular?”

“I’ve just broken the one you sold,” said Matthew. “And I want to replace it. I’ll take the best of the three.”

Peter rose to his feet and went to a small cupboard. Matthew saw the three vases within and noticed, with relief, that they looked identical to the one which he had just shattered. Peter examined the price ticket.

“They’re not too expensive,” he said. “But then they’re not all that cheap. Are you sure that you want the most expensive one?”

“Yes,” said Matthew. “I’m sure.”

“And what about a small Indian puppet theatre?” Peter asked.

“Or a bottle with a sand picture of Naples in it?”

Matthew laughed. “No thanks.” He paused. “That woman who came in to buy the vase,” he said. “Did she like anything else? Did she express an interest in anything other than the vase?”

Peter thought for a moment. “Well, yes, she did, as it happens.

She was very taken with that Meissen figure over there. You see, that one, the figure of the girl. She liked that. But it’s rather too expensive, I’m afraid. It’s very rare, you see, and quite an early example.”

“How much?” asked Matthew.

Peter picked up the delicate figure of the girl and looked A Replacement – and an Extra Little Present 233

underneath it. “Prepare yourself for a shock,” he said. “Sixteen hundred pounds.”

Matthew did not blink. “That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll take that too.”

Peter knew about Matthew’s more-than-comfortable finan-cial situation; Big Lou had told him, discreetly of course. “If you’re sure . . .”

“I am,” said Matthew. “I’ve never been surer in my life.”

With his purchases cosseted in bubble wrap, Matthew left the Thrie Estaits and walked briskly back up the road. Inside the gallery, she looked at him reproachfully, but he noticed that she was struggling not to smile. “You’re very bad,” she said. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, I have,” said Matthew. “And here you are. Here’s your replacement. As good as the last one, I’m